


Does she know that we bleed the same?

by Smoakin_dontburnyourself



Series: Where's my love? [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, if only due to tequila, they know who they were, they remember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:24:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9106510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smoakin_dontburnyourself/pseuds/Smoakin_dontburnyourself
Summary: “Jyn” he spoke with fondness but she didn’t remember giving him her name."Take two of Cassian and Jyn finding each other like two magnets, unyielding to the world's promise of separation. Like the rebels they are





	

**Author's Note:**

> Pt.2 of an ongoing joke where Cassian and Jyn find one another no matter how drunk (I'm not crying, you are)

II. At a crowded bar 

 

At the crowded bar Jyn had blamed it on the inevitable buzz of tequila when she looked at him from across the room and for a moment it looked as though he were on a beach of all places, dressed as a pilot might be in preparation of a war. Of course it had been the tequila, she thought to herself, keeping her eyes on the mirth in his smile as he made his way over to where she stood (more or less) next two an incriminating line of empty shot glasses. 

 

He spoke with an accent, she couldn’t place from where and she didn’t think to ask when he whispered something attempting smooth in her ear. She could smell his breath laced with beer and she could see his too-tall friend smiling from ear to ear from the side of the bar from which he’d come. It  _ must _ have been the buzz when her half-lidded eyes opened wide enough to see that his face was slicked with sweat, more than allowed by the air-conditioned bar,  his scruff more pronounced then she’d seen a second ago, She blinked the haze away and in his eyes her haze was reflected. 

 

He frowned at her in disorientation, in awe?, in realization?

 

She wasn’t quite sure. 

 

And then he was pulling her, out of the space, away from the noise, and she followed, nodding when he asked if she’d like to go home with him. His accent was thicker and somehow it rang more clear in her ears, like she knew, like she had heard it before that night.

 

The air in his apartment was soggy and it tasted like sweat, her tongue tingled as if droplets of humidity reminded her of the body of water that loomed near by

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, taking a step towards where she stood rooted on his welcome mat. 

 

_ I’m not used to people sticking around when times get rough _

 

_ Welcome home  _

 

“I, uh” she swallowed another series of babbles, pausing to try and center herself and maybe figure out what the hell was wrong with her. 

 

Her eyes found the suede of his shoes, the dark wash of his jeans and the lazy wrinkles of a piece of his button-down that had sneaked over the edge of his belt where it had been tucked in haphazardly when she’d spotted him at the crowded bar. But then it was there no longer, instead replaced by a vest and a belt that looked to be strapped with ammunition

 

She shook her head thinking that the images would leave her but instead the room spun a few times before she could find his steady gaze again

 

The look in his eyes seemed as though maybe he’d seen her in some otherworldly get-up too 

 

A heartbeat of reflection passed

 

And then a fever shook her body, an outburst of emotion that all but propelled her forward, she felt herself melting into it, her skin igniting with the thought that he was there, close enough to touch, breathing in sync with her, maybe he couldn't believe it either 

 

“Jyn” he spoke with fondness but she didn’t remember giving him her name. 

 

A look, another, a breath, a squint of her eyes, a tilt of his head, and then they collided, their chests pulling together like two magnets, flatlining into a single curve. Her mouth found his in what seemed to be a gasp of realization, open to her and she breathed him in. His eyes were distant but his body was there with her, touching and pulling until it found its way under her top, feeling the familiar warmth of her skin burning in his palms. 

 

“I-I don’t know what’s happening I-” She swallowed his words and they tasted like a lifetime together, they tasted like tragedy, like victory, so very much like him.

 

“I know, Cassian” But she didn’t,  _ know _ , she only knew what he meant to say and couldn't put to words  

 

“I need to-” 

 

“Yes” she agreed, to whatever it was that he needed so badly, because when his lips found the junction where her neck became her jaw, she knew she needed it too. 

 

His hands felt as though they were everywhere at once, reacquainting himself with the feel of her, touching her in places only he would know to touch, dragging sighs from her mouth that sounded like his name. Somehow he walked her back until the back of her knees hit the edge of his couch. His body all but fell on top of her and she welcomed the pressure of his skin and of his breath rough at her ear. A couple buttons later and then finally skin, his skin, vast under her splayed fingers, warm and so very alive, so alive in fact that it almost brought tears to her eyes. _Welcome home_ the words seemed a lifetime ago but they echoed somewhere deep inside her

 

She watched him fumble with the front of his belt, she fumbled with the buttons of her skirt and they both laughed, at least at the impossibility of it all, but then he was inside of her, his pants and her skirt all but forgotten as if they too had been part of some other lifetime. 

 

This lifetime was him and her, pushing and moaning and kissing and kissing.. 

 

Cassian’s thrusts become more rhythmic, murmuring  something in her ear, something she figured was in another language, something she didn't understand, but she feels in her core and somewhere deeper, somewhere less mortal, she feels it when she peaks and takes him with her 

 

She thinks she’d feel it in this life and the next.

 

“I’ve missed you” lost in one another, she’s not sure who says it, she thinks that it doesn’t matter, she thinks she could live a thousand lives missing him. 

  
They remember, if only because of an alcohol induced haze of mouths and skin, they know who they were and what they did, and with their bodies intertwined as intimately as their eyes search one another, they know they would do it a million times over if it meant they’d spent a million lives remembering.            

**Author's Note:**

> This couple literally kills me, thanks for reading !


End file.
